


There I Saw the Signs

by resolute



Category: Firefly, Gotham Central
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-08-29
Updated: 2008-08-29
Packaged: 2018-05-10 02:19:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5565421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/resolute/pseuds/resolute
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Joker's cryogenic capsule is opened, only River Tam's mind can find and stop him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There I Saw the Signs

Demodex brevis are more suited for exposure to life between planets than are homo sapiens. When the dead bodies of humans are found floating in vacuum, a post-mortem examination often finds D. brevis living in the sebaceous glands at the base of the facial hair follicles. But tenacious as they are, they are also picky. One out of every four humans lacks a colony of D. brevis. No one knows why. Eyebrow mites. Demodex brevis. The green hair and eyebrows of the man standing over Weiyuan's body has no D. brevis. His gull-white skin and pomegranate mouth do not support life. I know it.  
  
I know a lot of things. I know that my brother, Simon, will be home from the hospital in one hour and forty-two minutes, plus or minus eight for pedway traffic. I know Simon has planned to have dinner with me and Weiyuan, and then sex with Weiyuan. I know this is how Simon likes to say goodbye before Weiyuan's long salvage runs. I know Weiyuan was looking forward to testing the new recycling components on his ship. I know that he suffered a lot before he died.  
  
I know that the damaged contact in the light is causing it to flicker on and off in a 1:5:3:2 ratio of time increments, cycling and repeating in dysfunction. I know the stabilizing circuit Simon and the doctor's put in my head cycles electrical impulses through a chemical matrix, custom electromagnetic tranquilizers flickering across my damaged neurons. I know that Weiyuan's blood forms the Chinese character for 'bat' on the floor. I know the circuit won't let me dance anymore. Won't let me know what this bad man, who calls himself the Joker, is thinking. I know the circuit makes me safer for everyone else. Right now I know I am not safe.  
  
I can't remember if I brushed my teeth this morning. Proper dental care is very important. Simon always reminds me. I'll have to ask him when he gets home. But after he says hello to Weiyuan.  
  
"Tell your precious brother he'll have to flit through the seedy side for his buggering," the Joker says. The circuit means I don't know what he sees. I'm glad. I don't want to see with his eyes. The Joker strips off his gloves, finger by finger, peeling the shell to reveal the flesh underneath. He drops the gloves on Weiyuan, red like autumn leaves. "A whole world," the Joker breathes. He sighs. "And no bat to show it to. I'll have to make do!" The Joker walks to the door. "Make sure, now, to deliver my message!" he says, pointing to Weiyuan. He laughs as he walks down the hall. I cover my ears.  
  
"I'm sorry, Weiyuan," I whisper. "But I can't remember how to dance."  
  
***  
  
The peace officers who take me to Weiyuan's memorial service are kind. They remind me of Kaylee. Kaylee is off-planet and will not be here and I am glad. I know the Joker is in the city and I do not want Kaylee's blood to spell words on the floor, like Weiyuan's blood did. I destroyed that evidence. I wiped away the blood with my hands and feet. Yes, I did. I did not want Simon to see.  
  
Simon is a good man. Good men are rare. And fragile. Like orchids. Since Weiyuan was killed I have been staying with the peace officers. They won't let me go home. They won't let me see my brother. The peace officers are not orchids, they are purple loosestrife. They must be weedy and invasive, strong in hostile environments, impossible to kill. Weiyuan was an orchid. He was easy to kill.  
  
Simon told the Alliance investigators everything. When he got home that night, when the peace officers arrived at our home. Simon tried to explain that it wasn't me. He told them about my circuit, showed them the papers from the hospitals. He said I was safe. Simon told them about his husband, Weiyuan, about his ship and his job in the black. About the salvage pod Weiyuan found on a routine cargo run. The pod, drifting past Miranda like a demon's ghost. The functional cryosystem in the pod. How Weiyuan brought it home to his gifted doctor husband, to see if the poor soul inside could saved. How Simon revived the passenger. The passenger, the Joker. Simon told the investigators everything, shouting, shouting at them to let me go. But no circuit in my head makes the Alliance feel safe. Not when I held Weiyuan's head in my hands and sang to him.  
  
I've spent a lot of nights and days, now, away from Simon. He walks towards me at the memorial brazier. His white clothes are brilliant and clean in mourning. I have on my best red silk dress. Simon smiles even though he is tired. "Who's the red for, mei-mei?" I can feel him. I can feel Simon in my mind. He is warm and bright like the sun and I have missed his heart in me. The circuit won't let me dance, and it won't let me tumble in Simon's heart. But I can feel him now. Something is wrong in the circuit.  
  
"It's red for luck in new ventures," I tell him. He should know that. I stick out my tongue. Simon's eyes spill over with tears and I reach for Simon's hand. The peace officer clears her throat. Simon glares. "I'm going to hug my sister now." He bites each word, snapping off the ends like crisp carrot sticks. The snap and break of words make his tears stop. It makes my heart hurt to see and it makes the brightness of Simon in my head dim and flicker. I don't like that. The peace officer steps away. My brother is an important doctor. An important scientist. The Alliance knows this.  
  
Simon hugs me and I rub my face in the clean smell of his shoulder. He is worried, about me, about the circuit. I know this in my head. He thinks it's been too long since he adjusted the circuit. He thinks it's been too long on this medication cycle. He worries that I've been in protective custody without him for too long. I close my eyes. "The peace officers don't believe you yet?"  
  
"No," he said quietly. His voice is muffled against my hair. I can feel his shoulders relax a little as we hug, and I hold him tight. "They still think you did that. That you could do that to Weiyuan."  
  
"I could have, once. Remember?"  
  
Simon wraps his arms around my shoulders and I hold him. He remembers. I can see the pictures in his mind. "They need to stop framing you and find the psychotic who really did it," he says.  
  
I can hear every thought. Every Simon-thought. "It's been too long, Simon." I can feel what he feels. My big brother.  
  
He holds me and his worry is a popsicle headache. "What's been too long?" he asks, like a trick, oh-so-casual.  
  
"You never tricked me," I tell him, giggling. "Not even when we were kids. Been too long," I whisper. "Your thinking is so loud . . . "  
  
Simon steps back. His hands hold my shoulders and Simon, Simon is so solid, a tree in front of me, a birch tree with paper bark curling and fluttering in the wind. Birch trees are lovely, swaying limbs moving and bending and dancing with me. I want to dance. I can almost dance again. I touch the birch tree, rub my fingers in its leaves. "I'll be able to dance soon," I tell it. I sway a little, left and right, humming the music.  
  
***  
  
There's a wagon-ride through the canyons, the canyon walls so high above me. The wagon trots and jolts along until it flies, flies through the sky. Not actual flight, of course. Just the electromagnetic rail effect of forced particle condensers working against a contained decay cycle. Not really flying. Gliding.  
  
The wagon doors open and I hug the driver goodbye. No, no I don't. I mean to, but the sticky-web on my wrists keeps my hands at my sides Tidy, contained. A package. I don't know where I'm being delivered, though. I'm a parcel, a package, a paper sack. I need a ribbon for my hair. I can't find a ribbon. I try to tie my hair up nicely, but there's the sticky-web again. "Sticky," I tell the sky. I can't see the sky, but it can always see me.  
  
The wagon driver is talking and I hear shouting. I wonder for a moment if I could make them all stop shouting. But then I hear Simon and everything is right again. He appears and helps me out of the wagon.  
  
The flowers in pots by the canyon wall are lush and blooming. Season of rain, season of flood. Simon cuts the sticky-web off my hands as the wagon flies away. I blink. It's not a wagon. It's a police helitransport. I look around. I'm not in a canyon. I'm standing with Simon on the transport ledge of our apartment building. It's raining. Simon throws a pair of plastic medical restraints to the ground and kicks them. I tilt my head back and look up into the rain. "Did you build an ark while I was gone?"  
  
"I told them you needed my care," he says, and puts his arms around my shoulders to lead me inside.  
  
In our apartment everything is clean. Clean and new in the front room. No bats drawn in blood here. Simon makes me sit down on the couch. I try to think about something nice. Bats. I think about bats. Simon comes back with a tray of needles and pills, and the little box that fixes my circuit.  
  
All I can think about is bats. "Simon, wait."  
  
"River, I need to -- "  
  
"Why did they let me come home?"  
  
Simon puts the needle down. "They know you couldn't have hurt Weiyuan."  
  
I can almost hear them, the bats. "Because the Joker hurt someone else." No one told me. I just know it.  
  
"Yes." Simon holds my hand. "He called Station Bravo News, after the third body was found. He was upset he didn't have the credit. They played the tapes. He named all his victims so far." Simon looked at the floor. He's staring at the place Weiyuan's body fell. "He named more than four, so the peace officers are looking for him." Simon is patting my hand. He wants to comfort me. "The city is afraid."  
  
I look at the syringes. In the cloudy prescriptions and prescriptives and the muddy solutions to all the problems, solutions and precipitates and inter-reacting chemicals I can see the picture forming. In the drip of the drug I hear the flap of the bat.  
  
"I can dance, now, Simon."  
  
"I know. That's why I need to fix your circuit."  
  
I put my hand on his. He looks at me and _looks_. "No," I say gently, because he doesn't want to hear this and he's being obtuse like always. "You take care of me, Simon." His face gets smushed as if I hit him. I look at my hands to make sure I didn't really. I didn't. "You've always taken care of me." I pat his hand. "My turn. The Joker needs someone to dance with."  
  
Simon blinks quickly. In Morse code his blinking spells G-Z-A which doesn't mean anything but I see the letters form anyway. The letters drift away and shatter on Simon's tears.  
  
***  
  
The Joker is easy to find, a web of trails of little white stones on the ground all leading to the cottage in the woods. The cottage of candy, candy cottage. No one else has found him, but no one else hears the music the way I do. Just him and me, dancing.  
  
The Joker is a bad man. He is bad like the Reavers, hollow. That's why he eats everyone in the candy cottage. I don't like gumdrops, they stick in my teeth.  
  
The Joker has gumdrops stuck in his teeth. Red. Red and tearing lips and teeth.  
  
He talks while we dance. His words dance with us like the axes of the Reavers. I grab his words as they fall.  
  
It's raining. I can see that, now. The Joker is laying on the ground, laughing and laughing and laughing. I think that means our dance is over. I step closer to make sure. Joker spits blood and smiles at me. "Gonna stop me, little girl?" he says, giggling. "You better make it stop, now. Arrest me and I'll be free again, just like the old days . . . " I watch his eyebrows, the way the rain drips through them. "No bat to stop me here. Just a little girl, crazy as a loon!"  
  
"They're going to take your mind," I tell him. "I'm not sorry."  
  
In the distance I hear the sirens. The Joker lays on the ground. He can't walk because of our dance. He frowns, his red red lips bleeding in the rain. "They'll try," he says with a scowl. "But I have a joke for them! No mind, no mind to take!"  
  
I shrug and watch the rain wash through the green strands of hair. The Joker keeps talking. The letters of his words splash to the ground. Soon I'll go home and Simon will fix my circuit, and I will forget how to dance.


End file.
